


A Fine Knitted Mess Indeed

by LileNoire



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Courtship, Dori does not, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Jealous Dori, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nori thinks it's funny, Ori is confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LileNoire/pseuds/LileNoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ori gives the rest of his scarf to Gandalf, he doesn't think once for his poor smitten older brother's feelings.</p>
<p>Also known as That-time-Dori-thought-Ori-was-hitting-on-Gandalf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Knitted Mess Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic shelved probably since after An Unexpected Journey came out. Or was it later...Anyway, point is I've worked on this for a long time and it just feels good to have it finally published (even if it's rushed at the end...eh).
> 
> Enjoy!

During one of the first nights of the journey, Ori had been knitting. Of course, he was always knitting.  Ever since his mother passed on, he carried on her skill as much as he could in her memory. He was proud of this new craft, even more so when Oin asked him to make him a new scarf. With any luck, he may get as good as Dori.

However, this time round, he got distracted. He had been sitting close to the fire and working on the scarf when Dwalin began telling an intense story about one of his greatest battles to an awestruck Fili and Kili. Ori leaned in, latching on to every word as the needles in his hands clacked away. After that story, there was another and another and, then Ori lost count. Still the needles clacked.

It wasn’t until Dwalin told his last story and the two princes started play-fighting that Ori looked down at his scarf and discovered-

_Oh!_

The scarf had folded itself into a large pile. He stood up and held it up for a better look. Half of it was still on the ground.

_Oh, dear._

Ori didn’t panic for too long though. He laid out the scarf to its full length, ( _Great Mahal above, it’s longer than me!_ ) and borrowed a small knife and hook from Dori. Carefully, Ori undid the stitches about a third of the way and sealed the end of that so it was more suitable to Oin. It was long and frustrating work, but Oin’s broad smile and hard slap on his back made it worth his time when Ori presented it to him.

Now, what to do with the rest of it?

The other two thirds of the scarf was still far to long for any dwarf to wear without tripping or straggling themselves. Ori was far too tired to cut it in half and they were to set off first thing tomorrow.

Ori picked it up, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb and admiring the stitches. He was pleased with it, despite the consequences.

Everyone around him was beginning to turn in for the night, setting out their bedrolls in their respective places. Only Gandalf, who was on the first watch, stayed up, sitting on a nearby rock where the ponies grazed, smoking his pipe.

Ori had an idea then.

He scampered over to the rock and bowed before the wizard.

“Pardon me, Mister Gandalf,” he said, in the same polite tone Dori had drilled into him as a child.

“Ah! Good evening, Master Ori!” Gandalf greeted, his voice rich in good spirits. “How may I help you?”

“Oh, I’m not here for your service sir,” Ori assured, holding out the scarf. “I was just wondering if you wanted this at all? I made it too long by accident and I thought it would be more suitable to you than the rest of the company.”

Gandalf raised his eyebrows, but he took the scarf from Ori. His long, bony fingers ran along the stitching and he smiled, lines creasing around his eyes.

“Well, thank you very much, Master Dwarf! It is a rather fine work of knitting and I’d be happy to wear it,” he commented, making Ori blush. The wizard then wrapped it around his neck in one swift motion. One half trailed way passed his waist but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like it!” Ori said, then stretched and let out an impressive yawn. It had been a long day. “Well, I suppose I should bid you goodnight.”

“Off to bed with you, then,” Gandalf said, chuckling. “Sleep well.”

Ori returned to campfire and slumped on to his bedroll, falling asleep almost in an instant.

He completely missed Dori giving him a suspicious look and glancing back at Gandalf.

* * *

“A slingshot against a Troll?! Ori, what were you thinking?!”

Ori wriggled on the rock he sat on, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. “I’m alive, am I not?” he mumbled. “And Nori wouldn’t be here because of me!”

Dori huffed. “You only got lucky this time. See, this is exactly why I came, because I knew you were going to pull stupid stunts like that! I told you to stay behind at the camp, but did you listen!?”

Ori buried his face in his hands and Dori continued to rant at him. Why did he have to do this now? Here they were next to the troll’s cave and he had been eager for a look inside, despite the smell. He had read that Trolls usually kept their victims’ items and had hoped to nab maybe a new sword with any luck, but no! Dori just _had_ to choose this time to scold him just because he survived from being nearly spit-roasted by trolls.

“I swear by my beard, Ori, it’s bad enough that your trying to make a move on-”

Dori stopped midsentence then. Ori looked up and saw he had turned away a little, going pink in the cheeks.

“Bilbo!”

Ori glanced back at the troll cave, where Gandalf, Thorin, Bofur, Nori and Gloin walked out. Thorin, looking grim as ever, dusted off some cobwebs on an otherwise curved and elegant sword. Ori’s blood surged with jealousy. _Oh, the nerve of him!_

In an effort to distract himself, he turned his attention to Gandalf. The wizard approached Bilbo and handed him- Oh, even the Hobbit got one! He really wished then Nori managed to get one for him at least.

“What are you doing?” Dori snapped suddenly, making Ori jump.

“Nothing!” Ori squeaked, truthfully. “It’s just that Gandalf-”

“Oh, Gandalf. I should have known!” Dori interrupted, rolling his eyes and his face redder.

Ori frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I was gonna ask the same thing,” Nori said, appearing by Ori’s side and dusting the dirt from his clothes ( _and utterly sword-less_ , Ori thought with a sigh).

Dori puffed out his cheeks, his eyes darting between his brothers and to where Gandalf stood. “It appears, dear Nori,” he said in a low whisper. “that our baby bother has taken a fancy to our wizard.”

“What!?” Nori and Ori exclaimed simultaneously, Ori turning red with horror while Nori spluttering in laughter.

“It’s not funny, Nori!” Dori hissed but Nori paid no heed.

“Dori, that,” Nori said, his breath coming out in short titters. “is the funniest thing I have ever heard!”

Ori’s face flushed hot from a new embarrassment, briefly glancing over to Gandalf to make sure he wasn’t listening. _How could he even think that?!_

“But I-I’m not-” he stammered. “Dori, I don’t-I’ve never-”

“Oh, really?” Dori now loomed over him, giving him his signature glare. “Then please explain to me what-”

A great rumble of something large stopped him from saying anything further.

“Something’s coming!” Thorin’s voice rang out.

And then too many things happened all at once, leaving the conversation utterly forgotten for the time being.

* * *

It wasn’t until that evening, when they were safe in Rivendell and far from the Elves, that Ori remembered the conversation before Radagast appeared. And it wasn’t the best of reminders…

“You call that ridiculous!” Nori bellowed to Bofur, who was, once again, rolling on the floor laughing at his own story. “Wait ‘till you hear this! Our Dori thinks our Ori has a little-”

The thief was muffled into silence by Dori’s iron grip. Ori stiffened from his place beside Dwalin.

“A word, brothers, if you please,” Dori said through gritted teeth, dragging Nori away. Ori bit his lip nervously, but shut his book and followed his brothers. Dori led them to a selected corner, looked around in case of unwanted bystanders then released his grip. Nori gasped for air rather dramatically.

“Look, I don’t want you sharing this with the others! Do you want to embarrass me and Ori?”

“Well it is pretty funny!”

“That doesn’t give you any right-”

“About that!” Ori said, cutting Dori off. “What made you think I had a crush on Gandalf?”

Dori gave him a look that had him nearly curling in on himself. “Think?! Young dwarf, I don’t think! I _know!”_

Ori gaped at him. “But I haven’t-”

“Shown interest?” Dori interrupted. “Well, now, let’s see. How about the time you two had a rather excessive conversation about the first age of Elves? Or perhaps that time he just so happened to give you that last of his oatcakes? No, wait! There was two nights ago when-”

Ori’s mouth hung open as Dori continued to list more examples of minor interactions between him and the wizard. Just where was he getting this stuff from?!

“Dori what-”

“And least we not forget,” Dori cut in once again. “That suspiciously detailed scarf you gave him a few nights ago?”

“Hold on, now!” Nori said, suddenly serious. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a little bit? Ori talks with everyone on the same level. Also, he’s always knitting something for someone. Didn’t you see Oin and his scarf?”

“Everyone else is different!” Dori snapped.

“Then what is it about the way I treat Gandalf separate from the way I treat others?” Ori squeaked, still not quite believing they were having this conversation.

Dori opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. His face turned into several interesting colours and he was not looking at them in the eye.

“Well…erm…it’s just…Mister Gandalf has always been…I mean…it’s not like…I just have a little…um…”

Ori frowned at him. His behaviour made no sense. He got angry about this ‘crush’ and now confronted he acting embarrassed- Oh!

Just as it dawned on him, there was a choked sound from Nori. Then he was laughing. Hard.

“It’s not funny!” Dori snapped, going bright red.

But Nori was practically keeling over. “I knew it!” he wheezed between laughs. “I fucking _knew_ it!”

“Mahal’s sake, Nori! What have I told you about language?”

Nori managed to calm down at that, though he still giggled as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Ah, you old bugger and your old courting traditions.”

Ori blinked. “What?”

“What, you don’t know? That’s how dwarves in Dori’s time used to court!”

Ori blinked again, his brows knitted in confusion. “What, by making them scarfs?”

“Don’t be silly!” Dori sniffed, now very pink in the cheeks. “We used to show our affection in the most subtle of ways before everyone got impatient. It starts off little, like brushing your elbow against theirs or brushing your fingertips against theirs and soon, it turns into offering them tea, sharing some food.”

Dori paused, dazing at nothing in particular with a little smile and Ori got the feeling he must have tried those on Gandalf at some point. Then he shook his head, his scowl returning. “Honestly, I thought I taught you all of this last year.”

Nori sniggered. Ori, his head still buzzing with the ridiculousness of the situation, took Dori’s hands and clasped them between his own.

“Khâzash,” he said, holding Dori’s gaze. “I like Gandalf, but I assure you, I don’t _love_ him. Really, I don’t!” he added when Dori scoffed. “All those things between us were out of friendship. That and the scarf I made for Oin was too long and I gave the extra bit to him.”

Dori gave him a doubting look and Ori sighed, frustrated. “Alright, fine! If makes you happy, I won’t go near him again and you can make your move. Deal?”

After a thoughtful moment, Dori smiled and hugged him. “I do love you really, you little scamp,” he said in his ear. Ori wasn’t sure how to react to that.

“Alright sorted!” Nori said cheerily, then added, “Now can we go back? If we’re lucky, Bombur won’t have eaten all the sausages.”

* * *

Indeed, after all the danger in the Misty Mountains had passed, Dori did make his move. Rather frequently and perhaps a little urgently than Ori expected. Dori was always the one to give the wizard his bowl of stew or offer him his oilskin water, even after he just filled it up.

None of the rest of the company seemed to know or care what Dori was up too, though Oin did raise his eyebrows once when Dori dared to bump against the wizard as they made their way down the Craddock.

Gandalf, however, reacted graciously to Dori’s offers and hints, though when he looked to Ori in amused question, he turned his head the other way as if he didn’t know any better. Surely if Gandalf was as old as Middle Earth itself, then he would know exactly of old dwarven courting traditions.

And later on, when they were safe and sound in the skin-changer’s house, Ori spotted Dori following Gandalf out of the main room. He didn’t comment about it though. Instead he turned his attention back to Bofur’s scandalous jokes and told himself to forget about it for now and enjoy himself. If Nori noticed anything as well, he also made no indication that he did.

That was until hours later, when Ori was rudely awaked by Nori’s hissing voice.

“So where have you been?”

Ori opened his eyes sleepily. He could make out his brothers’ lying outlines in front of him in the dying fire’s light. Neither had noticed they had woken him.

“Nori. For Mahal’s sake, don’t do that,” Dori hissed back. “And that is none of your business.”

Nori chuckled wickedly. “You smell rather well-fucked. Practically wafting of it, big brother.”

“Don’t use that sort of language so close to Ori.” Dori snapped. “And I have no idea what you are talking about.”

With that, Dori rolled over so that his back was to Nori and facing Ori. Ori closed his eyes then, resisting the urge to smile at his brother’s success and drifted back to sleep with one last though on his mind.

_Ergh, Nori was right! He does smell rank!_


End file.
